


Calling Card

by dracoqueen22



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Campaign 2 (Critical Role), Fjollyweek 2019, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 03:48:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17780009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoqueen22/pseuds/dracoqueen22
Summary: Molly has a book full of tricks, but a little curiosity goes a long way, as Fjord is about to find out.For Fjollyweek 2019, Day Four.





	Calling Card

**Author's Note:**

> The author knows nothing about how Tarot actually works save for a ten minute Google session, and is then writing by the seat of her pants, as Mollymauk often does. ;)

He can feel the eyes on him.   
  
Molly’s used to being stared at it. He’s a lavender tiefling with red eyes, covered in tattoos, and more colors in his clothing than be found on a rainbow. He attracts attention. It’s part of his charm.   
  
He pays attention because the attention people give him can often dictate whether he’s going to get a warm welcome, an icy welcome, or an armed reception. He’s learned to be aware of his surroundings, to track carefully the persons in his vicinity, and quickly identify who’s going to be fun to bullshit, and who he shouldn’t bother.   
  
Doesn’t mean he doesn’t bother the ones who shouldn’t be bothered, just means he knows ahead of time he should have done it, and still does it anyway.   
  
He knows who’s watching him this time. Molly smiles, hums under his breath, and keeps placing the cards on the fabric in front of him, one by one by one. He glances over them -- it’s all nonsense, he’s not doing a reading right now.   
  
Not that anyone else knows that. Well, maybe Yasha. She’s pretty familiar with his bullshit by now.   
  
“Are you going to keep staring or are you going to sit down and finally let me read your fortune?” Molly asks, looking up through his eyelashes at Fjord loitering nearby, smoothing polish into his leather armor.   
  
Jester’s konked out in the back of the cart, snoring just loud enough for Molly to hear, otherwise he’s sure she’d be over here in a heartbeat. She’s the only one with any eagerness for a reading. The wide-eyed wonder is adorable, and Molly wouldn’t be able to resist.   
  
Besides, it sure beats Beau’s sneering skepticism.   
  
“You know I don’t believe in that stuff,” Fjord says.   
  
“Mmm. Doesn’t mean you’re not curious.” Molly holds his gaze as he shuffles the major deck and then the minor deck. “Come on, Fjord. What do you have to lose?” He waggles his eyebrows playfully.   
  
Fjord snorts, but he stows the polish and sets the breastplate aside. He moves around the campfire, steps over Beau and her ridiculous lounge which takes up far too much space, and stands over Molly, sitting cross-legged on the ground, the Bahamut tapestry spread out beneath him.   
  
“If I do, will you stop teasing me about it,” he asks, and his tone is light, almost playful, but there’s something dark and guarded in his eyes.   
  
“I will never stop teasing you. It’s too fun,” Molly retorts, rolling his eyes. His tail flicks around and lands in his lap, tip twitching. “But I promise to leave this particular topic alone.”   
  
Fjord sighs, long and aggrieved, but his lips twitch like he’s trying to hide a smile. “Fine.” He plops down in front of Molly, legs crossed, elbows braced on his knees. “Read my fortune then.”   
  
Molly grins. “Excellent.”   
  
He pulls up the major deck, playfully shuffles it, then removes the top card. He lays it face down in front of him so both he and Fjord can see it, and feigns surprise at the image staring up at them.   
  
“Well, isn’t that fortuitous,” Molly says as he catches Fjord’s gaze. “The Hierophant. Hmm. That matches you perfectly.”   
  
Fjord’s eyebrows lift. “Wow. Amazing.” His tone is flat. He rests his chin on one palm. “And what does the Hierophant do?”   
  
“It’s more what you are,” Molly says, his finger pressed to the Hierophant, which is unsurprisingly reversed. Honestly, if he isn’t bullshitting so much, he’d be impressed with himself. “And you are someone whose beliefs are going to challenge the status quo. You are a fighter, Fjord. And one with a great sense of… mmm, personal morality.”   
  
Fjord snorts and raps his fingertips on his cheek. “Well, that sounds exactly like me.”   
  
“It certainly does,” Beau echoes from behind.   
  
“Fuck off, Beau!”   
  
“Shut the fuck up, Molly!”   
  
Molly rolls his eyes. “Anyway, moving on.” He pulls three cards from the minor deck and sets them out in front of Fjord, one by one, his brow raising with each successive card.   
  
Huh.   
  
Looks like his sleight of hand is getting better.   
  
“First we have the Ace of Wands.” Molly tilts his head, jewelry chiming musically from his horns. “It’s reversed. You have a new idea about something, but unfortunately, you haven’t figured out how you’re going to do it. You’re hesitant. One wonders why.” He chances a peek at Fjord, trying to read his reaction.  
  
Nothing. Fjord looks contemplative, but not open. His interest is polite in name only. Begrudging, if Molly has to guess.   
  
He taps the second card. “This here is the Page of Swords.” He licks his lips, heart picking up a faster rhythm, his tail lashing behind him. “This idea you’re thinking about? It’s got you full of curiosity. You must think about it a lot. Dreams maybe. When you’re alone.”   
  
Molly winks, exaggerated and playful.   
  
Beau snorts in the background. Molly flips her off without looking. Yasha catches his eye over Fjord’s shoulder, a question in the gaze, but Molly drops his own without answering.   
  
“You already know I have dreams,” Fjord says, but there’s something shifty in the way he’s not meeting Molly’s gaze now. In how he coughs to himself, a sort of flush blooming across his cheeks.   
  
Oh.   
  
Oh, that’s a very good sign.   
  
Molly’s heart picks up a faster rhythm.   
  
“Salty dreams,” Nott points out because she’s been eavesdropping, the sneaky little rogue. “Seaman dreams.”   
  
That’s a joke that’s never going to get old. Molly chuckles.   
  
Fjord’s blush deepens. Normally, this would be when he rolls his eyes and buries his face behind his hands because the Mighty Nein are idiots. Instead, he coughs and gives Molly a somewhat intent look.   
  
“All right,” he says. “What’s the last one?”   
  
This is it.   
  
Molly traces a finger around the edge of the card. “The Nine of Cups,” he says, holding Fjord’s gaze as the words tumble from his lips. “It’s a good one. This curiosity of yours has turned into a wish, and the nine of cups means you’re well on your way to this wish coming true.”   
  
Fjord straightens. “How?”   
  
Molly grins and gathers up his cards, shuffling them together. “Is this you believing in the cards?” He tucks them into his pocket, anticipation building into a coil in his belly.   
  
“Is this you saying the cards don’t know?” Fjord challenges, but he’s licking his lips, and he’s leaning closer, like there’s nothing in the woods right now but the two of them, sitting on this tapestry and facing each other.   
  
Well.   
  
Never let it be said that Mollymauk Tealeaf is a tiefling who doesn’t take risks.   
  
“They’re not accurate to the minute, but if they were, I’d say you’re about to find out in oh… three seconds?” Molly says.   
  
“Three sec--”  
  
Molly kisses him. He leans forward, presses his lips to Fjord’s, and keeps it as chaste as he possibly can. Well, he’s only mortal, so his tongue flicks out just to taste the seam of Fjord’s lips before he pulls back, grinning.   
  
“The cards are always right,” Molly says with a tap to Fjord’s nose. He stands, soaking in the sight of a Fjord in full blush, tongue sweeping over his lips, eyes bright and startled.   
  
Perfection.   
  
“It’s my turn to get firewood, isn’t it?” Molly asks with a wink toward Yasha. He steps over Beauregard, who tries to trip him and nearly succeeds.   
  
“It’s our turn.” Fjord scrambles to his feet and catches up to Molly at the edge of the forest. “I mean, the more arms the more wood, right?”   
  
Molly laughs and pointedly eyes Fjord’s groin. “Depends on the kind of wood you’re talking about.”   
  
“Oh, godsdamnit go make out in the woods already!” Beau groans with long, exaggerated gagging noises. “I’ll get the damn firewood.”   
  
“I’ll help you,” Yasha says.   
  
“I’m surrounded by idiots,” Nott says and plunks herself down beside Caleb. “Make them stop.”   
  
“I’m afraid that’s not within my power,” Caleb says, but there’s a hint of humor in his voice, and well, that’s good. Caleb needs to smile more.   
  
On the cart, Jester snores a bit louder. She’s going to regret missing this.   
  
“Making out in the forest?” Fjord says, halfway between embarrassed and intrigued if the gleam in his eyes is anything to go by. “Did the cards tell you that?”   
  
Molly slips one out of the deck and holds it out to Fjord, pressed between two fingers, so Fjord can see the image printed on it.   
  
“It’s the Lovers card,” he says. “What do you think?”   
  
Fjord grabs his free hand by the wrist and pulls him into the forest.   
  
And that is answer enough.   
  


*

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback, as always, is welcome and appreciated.


End file.
